Deducing Tragedy Part Three: Hear no Lullaby
by madefornight
Summary: "The world is dark," she whispered taking hold of his hand, "and you are my one flicker of light." "We won't survive this." She smiled at him, "I don't think we're supposed to." {Sherlock/Oc}
1. Summary

The pawns are in place and the game has only just begun.  
An invisible war wages the streets of London and it's up to Sherlock to end it.  
But every step towards the end is a step away from Hanna.  
Can the Consulting Detective save both, or will Eva's game force him to do the unthinkable:  
Choose.  
"What's happening to us?"  
"...I- I don't know and that truly terrifies me."


	2. It's Fine, I'm Fine

Baker Street is quite. The piano in the window, with a violin set on top, hadn't been touched in months. And the violin? Soundless. On the outside the flat looked empty the man that once paced the windows hadn't stood there in ages. The woman who stared lovingly out at the London street hadn't been seen either. The woman tending the bakery below the quiet flat only shrugged when asked about her tenants. They've just become private people, she would say. They've just become quiet.

John Watson came to Baker Street a few times a week. The man was almost always out or too deep into a case to say much. The woman however was a gracious host. She smiled when he arrived and poured him a cup of tea. They would talk but at a slower pace that he was used to. Sometime he would look at her and realize she didn't know what he just said because his cup had blocked his lips. When he repeated himself she would smile but her eyes were sad. Those deep blue eyes were filled with a sorrow that he couldn't understand.

"You're adjusting well," He said one day as they had tea. "How's your sign language coming along?"

"It's getting easier," she said with a small shrug. "Ben's been coming with me to classes."

He frowned, "Ben? I wasn't aware that you were still in contact."

She smiled, "Yes. Ben has been a great help to me through all this. Learning sign language with someone else makes it easier. You can practice and learn from each other."

"Dull."

John turned his head to look at the man standing on the couch along the back wall. Sherlock Holmes was dressed for the day but wore his dressing gown regardless. Dark curly hair was all John could see and he fought the urge the yank the dark mess, turning the Consulting Arse around so she could hear his snide remark too.

He shook his head and turned back to her. She looked lost and sad; like a child left out of the joke. He offered her a smile as he set his cup aside. "Hanna why don't you teach me some sign language?" he said sitting forward.

She smiled, the first one he's seen that actually reached her eyes, "If you're interested Ben is picking me up for class in a bit. You could come with us."

"How much would that be?" he asked and she shook her head.

"It wouldn't cost you anything," she said, her smile dropping back out of her eyes, "When I registered for the class I paid for three spots but… one remains empty."

Sherlock sighed in annoyance and John glanced at him again before turning his attention back to the woman in front of him. Hanna Hooper looked sad. Not just a trivial unhappiness that afflicted most people. Her depression ran bone deep and consumed her soul. This was not the Hanna he used to know. She was always happy, even with a monster hunting her she managed a positive outlook on her life. She told him once that her death was inevitable but she found a kind of peace in that. Her death would be the end of her tragic life and that idea was what kept a smile on her face. No matter how bad it got, it wouldn't last long.

Now there was no peace, no positive outlook. Hanna was trapped inside her life. Trapped in Baker Street with a man who gave no care for how she was struggling. The man she loved no less. How Sherlock justified his behavior towards her John didn't know. He wanted to help them, help them recover what they once had. The bond they shared was precious, it was beautiful and John had only see parts of it; little moments of a relationship that had since dissolved into poison that was killing them both. One was just better at hiding it.

John smiled at her and took her hand. Her right eyebrow shifted up just slightly, a question in her eyes and parted lips that he could never answer. "I would love to come to class with you and Ben."

Sherlock spun around, "There is a war waging the streets of London and you're going to waste your time on trivial nonsense-"

"Sherlock," John warned him.

"Oh don't use that tone on me," he rolled his eyes and he jumped off the couch. "I'm not a child."

"You're acting like one."

"Its fine, John," Hanna said reaching forward to rest her hand on his arm. "Please, its fine."

He looked back at her, his hand moving to cover her small pale one, "But it clearly isn't Hanna. You can lie to yourself, lie to him even, but you are not fine. This whole situation is not fine."

"Then help me put an end to it," Sherlock insisted. "If I can put an end to Eva's network then Hanna will be free to-"

"We're not talking about Eva, Sherlock." John growled and Sherlock frowned.

"Then what are we talking about?" he asked and Hanna bowed her head. "If we're not talking about Eva Vitamali, the one causing all our problems, what are we talking about?" Eva Vitamali, Hanna's birthmother and head of a vast underground network of criminals that made Moriarty's net look like a joke. But seeing as Moriarty was part of her web it made sense that he was so much smaller.

Eva was most known for pushing psychopaths in a direction that would benefit them both. She recruited them young and then raised them into powerful positions for her to exploit. Hanna was one of two biological children she had in the early days of her growing empire and even she played a part in the grand plan. Hanna was blinded with a special poison by her now deceased ex-boyfriend, Tomas Mathers, under Eva's orders. However when Mathers gave Hanna the cure Eva decided to take things to another level and deafened Hanna. Permanently.

And that's the part that Sherlock seemed to miss. Hanna couldn't hear any more. She never would again but he was treating it like her blindness, a temporary affliction. At first John thought it was just going to be an adjustment period. Sherlock would come to reason, he had to. But as time went on it became very clear just how in denial the Consulting Detective was. When Hanna would sign he would get angry. When he turned his head and she missed what he said he would yell at her for not paying attention. And then he became obsessed with Eva Vitamali. He was convinced that she was the source of all their problems and he was fighting heaven and hell trying to take her down.

"Mother can't be beaten, Sherlock," Hanna whispered raising her head back up. "We tried when she took Mary and Ben-"

"Yes, and then you jump to the conclusion that there was no way to save them before the rest of us even had time to try," he shouted. "Why you gave yourself to her I will never understand. You're nothing but her puppet now, not the woman I use to know!"

Hanna flinched and closed her eyes. Four months ago Eva had her other daughter, Ciri, kidnap Mary. Ben had drunkenly wandered into the wrong bar at the wrong time. In exchange for their lives Hanna gave herself to Eva. Every move, every word, every breath Hanna took was directed by Vitamali and this drove Sherlock up the wall. John didn't like it either but he was thankful for what Hanna did. His girlfriend, now fiancée, was safe and alive because of what Hanna did.

"Sherlock, stop it. Now." John said in a low tone as Hanna leaned back in her chair, her eyes still closed.

"No," he growled, only glancing at John before returning his gaze to the woman in the chair. "She's a puppet, a spy, a traitor in our midst! Not the woman I loved! She was never this weak, never!"

"Sherlock, she can't hear you," John sighed, standing up. "Her eyes are closed; she doesn't even know you're talking."

"Don't make up excuses for her," he sneered turning back towards the back wall.

The doorbell rang and John sighed again. Ben was here, it was time for class. Gently he touched the back of Hanna's small hands and she opened her eyes to look at him. He smiled, gesturing towards the door and the two of them left. Sherlock heard them go and bowed his head. He walked to the window just in time to see her white blond hair disappear into the car. He watched them drive away. Next to him a piano and violin sat untouched for four months. He remembered the last song they played. Both of them filled the room with a sweet melody that brought tears to his eyes as he recalled it now. The last song they played was a lullaby.

* * *

**Well, Well, Well, here we are again! I hope you all liked this little beginning chapter as you can tell a lot has changed since the end of Speak no Lies! Sherlock is being a dick, John is getting fed up, and Hanna is just trying to get by. need less to say, this story is going to be a shit storm for everyone involved! **

**I've started a new short Sherlock/OC story based around the Empty Hearse called Beauty and the Beast check it out! it's pretty kick ass! **

**TUTOKM chapter 5 is in the works and should be up soon-ish **

******An Nimh Milse ****has hit a road block but im working on it so stay tuned. **

******Also I started a Benedict story! {shhh don't tell Fanfiction!} called: Write Me Into Your Daydream! it's pretty awesome if I do say so myself!**

******one last thing: I've desided to do the 30 day OTP challenge but I'm going to do it with Hanna/Sherlock. they're all going to be posted under What's Meant to Be, Will Be so if you're interested in that go subscribe! **

******don't forget to Follow, favourite, and Review because I post chapter every Friday night!**

******Ttfn!**

******-Katy**

******(Chapter 2- Feb 14)**


	3. The Chains that Hold Us

"My second visit from Sherlock Homes in less than a week," she smiled from the table she was chained too. "Has my sister finally bored you into finding a new source of entertainment? Because, sorry to break it to you, but you're just not my type."

He sat down across from her, his face a mask of indifference, "Hanna has nothing to do with my coming here."

Her smile grew. "Oh, Sherlock," her head tipped to the side, "I love how you lie to yourself." Ciri Pond Crepti, aka The Ripper Concidit, aka Emily Rain was sentenced to life in prison for the brutal deaths of two civilians. Well she would be if they could actually get to trial but half a dozen other countries wanted her head on a stick. She would live a long time while men in expensive suits argued over what should be done with her.

"I'm here about Vitamali."

Her eyebrow twitched up, those blue eyes filled with a sort of deranged amusement. It made him uncomfortable. They were so much like Hanna's eyes; some would even say they were identical, because they were identical twins. They didn't bother to look past the label; twins are twins, they are the same in every way. Sherlock knew better, there was a difference. Not a tangible one, not one he could point out but it was there. Subtle, but real. "That's what you said last time."

He crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, "It is."

"I proved less than helpful." She said sitting up straight, her fingers tracing the silver links on her cuffs. "So why come back?"

"You've had time to think," he said simply.

"Oh?" her smile shifted into a smirk, "And what have I been thinking about?"

"Eva Vitamali gave you up without a thought or care for your wellbeing." When Hanna traded herself for Ben and Mary, Eva threw in her other daughter as an added bonus. She gave them Ciri's location and told Lestrade to tell her something.

She raised an eyebrow, "The Mother of a criminal network that encompasses the globe gave up a bishop; taking out the other sides queen and retrieving her own in the process. I'm not one for chess but even I know what a beautiful move that is."

"You don't care?" he asked.

"About what?"

"She gave you up," he said with a small frown.

"Mother has a plan," she said leaning forward. "What pieces she sacrifices are hers to sacrifice."

He let out a frustrated breath, "So you don't want revenge."

"Revenge was never a real motivator for me," she smiled again. "After I killed my foster families I never really cared for it. No, Sherlock; if I wanted revenge I would take it on you."

"Me?" he raised an eyebrow, "What for?"

Her smile remained, "My teacher is dead because of you."

"Teacher?" he asked sitting up straight, his fingers interlocked on the table.

"Everyone has a teacher Sherlock," she leaned back in her chair. "One to light their path, direct their life. Mine is dead and you are not."

"Who?"

She offered him a challenge in her eyes, "Telling would be playing fair. I'm not play anymore."

"I've heard that before," he cocked his head to the side. "The Woman."

"The Dominatrix," she corrected with a wage of her eyebrow.

"She was your teacher-"

"Of course not," she rolled her eyes.

"Then who?"

Her smile turned into a mocking frown, "Oh Sherlock, have you really lost a step like everyone thinks?"

"Mathers." Tomas Mathers, Moriarty's apprentice and Hanna's Monster. Just saying his name made Sherlock's blood boil. He was vial, cruel, and deranged. He took pleasure out of putting Hanna through hell. He was the reason she'd been blind, he was the reason she was deaf.

Ciri let out a laugh, "That untrained dog?" she giggled, "He taught me? Really?"

He glared in frustration, "Then who?!"

"Who indeed?" She jumped forward, her chains straining against the metal table. Their faces were inches apart and her breath stirred his hair. The guard move forward to intervene but Sherlock held up his palm to stop her in her tracks. Ciri's smile grew, the raw madness sending a chill up his spin as she whispered, "A man, or more than that? Before I was but a spark, he blew me into a flame from which I burned across the continents."

His eyes went wide, his lips just barely parted as he whispered, "Moriarty."

Her smile fell as she slid back into her chair, "Jim was very dear to me Sherlock."

"You loved him."

For a moment her features lost the subtle notes of insanity and she looked like Hanna. She was sweet, innocent, and very sad…for a moment. "Of course I loved him. But that didn't matter, he had to die. It was part of Eva's plan. However he wasn't the only one slated to die that day."

He raised his head, "I was too."

The madness leaked back into her featured as her eyes snapped to his, "Yes, you were."

"Why?"

Her lips parted as her head tipped to the left, "Because of Hanna obviously."

He glared at her, "I don't understand."

"Mother knew you and she would be perfect for each other," she said, her eyes cast down at the table. "She knew you would give my dear sister hope when there was none. You were a pawn that had to be dealt with. Jim was made for you, from the beginning she constructed him to live and die… with you. He told you that."

_We were made for each other Sherlock_. "He did." He leaned back in his chair, "But how could she know I would be a problem years before I ever met her daughter? We were all just children."

She shrugged, "I don't pretend to understand my mother's mind. I barely have control of my own."

"Say she could predict all the variables," he began, "what is her end game? What does she want?"

"That was above my pay grade," she smirked, "I was just a bishop in her game. A tool she's disposed of. I didn't get to know the plan, I only did as told. There is only one person she might have told her plan too."

"Who?"

"They won't tell you anything."

"I'll be the judge of that."

She laughed, "Sherlock, don't you see? You already know."

He frowned again, "What do you mean?"

"The only person Mother would tell her plan too?" she giggled, "You're living with her."

Hanna of course. Hanna, the woman he couldn't even look at without getting angry. He didn't know why he was always yelling at her; why he was always so cruel. He didn't want to be like that, he loved her. He loved her so much.

He swallowed, eyes cast down at the table as he spoke, "One last question."

"What more do you want to know?" she moaned in exasperation.

His eyes met hers, "When Eva gave you up she had Lestrade deliver a message." She went still. All elements of amusements at his expense vanished from her face and her eyes lost the madness again. She looked scared. "What did it mean?"

The fear slowly faded back out of her expression and she smiled at him. "What message was that again?"

"You know," he rolled his eyes, "I saw your face a moment ago, you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"But you don't," she said with a pointed look.

"If I did I wouldn't ask."

"What do you think it means?"

"I think it's a promise," he said cocking his head to the side, "a promise that you will be free one day."

She smiled, shaking her head slowly, "Oh Sherlock…" she sighed, "Don't you realize now? Hanna and I will never be free."

"The message," he growled, "What does it mean?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

"You. Wouldn't. Understand."

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!" he shouted slamming his hands down on the table.

Ciri only laughed.

* * *

**Hello Loves! I hoped you all liked this little installment. i think im gonna keep these spaced out updates just because i like the time i have to write, review, and edit until im happy. I also like having time to think about what i want in his chapter. i had this conversation probably close to 30 times before i wrote it out. no im not crazy- okay maybe a little :)**

**hope you all had a lovely day! dont forget to leave a comment/review i love hearing from you people 3 **

**ttfn**

**-Katy**

_ptsssss! if you liked this maybe check out some of my other stories:**  
**_

_Written in the Stars -30 day OTP challenge (Sherlock/Hanna)_

_Write Me into Your Daydream -Benedict story_

_An Nimh Milse -Sherlock/OC_

_The Unsavory Tragedy of Kiley Martin -Khan/OC_


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